A POEM A DAY

I'm just happy to be here.

Tag: tx

October 28, 2014

Why I’m Not Where You Are

Because I spoke soft to you in the morning /but your mouth hit mine like snooze /leave, leaves loosely left behind like /lips split open/turning my body/ into a fountain of come and find me/ because you never came and found me/ because wind currents spoke to my feet/ until they fell asleep and I could not feel/ where they were taking me/ because when I reached for you/ and your glass-blown, smooth and hot skin to kiss my hand/ you let your body turn to sand/ because people are not pivot points/ not the front of buildings with doors revolving with the sun/ because even if I rose with you/ my heart is still sleep-talking/ I reverberate but nothing translates/ language is not so absolute/when every letter is filled with loose change/ pennies that slipped away/ careful copper-talker, when you don’t shine/ no-one takes the time to ask why/ because house-guests don’t always get breakfast /because hunger is hardly enough reason to stay/ because ache is a place between your face and my face/ and there are miles of highway pretending to be asphalt/ but nothing that smooth is true/ because you are beautiful and true /and that is so new to me/because all my grief grew into a pomegranate/and you didn’t want to pick me apart /because if you asked me to stay/ I must have missed the transmission /because when love was said/ your mouth turned vacuum/ nothing was safe / not my name/not all this tenderness/ I saved for you/ because you can’t be angry over something you aren’t willing to ask for/ and I’m not willing to ask for you to choose/ because the sky doesn’t ask to be blue/ the sun doesn’t choose to come up/ because love is true regardless of choice/ and that is the triumph that puts lumps in our throats/ I’m not where you are because when/ I pressed my head against your chest/ there was no thump, no wild rumpus/ no chorus that played, no slow song/ that made us sway/ and what am I supposed to say that?

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April 23, 2014

21/30

21/30

THINGS FALL APART

The last band we saw together was Built to Spill
over at Stubbs, when November was its nastiest
and Winter felt so true. Thirty degrees and dropping,
I pressed my body so hard against yours, I expected
sparks to consume whatever it was we could not control
like the weather
like each other,
and each of our expectations filled with what we
both wanted, which was not each other,
I learned that from the aftermath
and that is the hardest part.
To be a lesson and not even know it
until you have to.

But oh, if I had to do it all over again,
I’d do it just the same. Even if I know
our sparks won’t stay long enough to last
through the winter of each other, I will
still build the a fire for you,
even if I have to burn myself down
to do it.

“We’ve all seen enough, now it’s time to decide
The meekness of love or the power of pride
It doesn’t matter if you’re good or smart
Goddamn it, things fall apart

Let’s go for a walk, yeah, let’s go for a drive
Don’t know how to say thanks for being alive
Let’s go for a lifetime, let’s go for a fling
Don’t know how to say anything”

 

 

 

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April 3, 2014

3/30

The problem is I’m wearing a watch that isn’t mine
and still checking the time like it is and suddenly
everything matters. Every second stutter steps
trying to say, “Hey, you sure about that?”

But tonight I am sure. Tonight
all my uncertainty leaves the waiting room
and gloom is gone for good. Tonight
I am in a ballroom with all my favorite people
I am all chandelier and sure I’ll pass the sugar
Which is me saying, tonight is sweet,
and your hands are careful cantaloupes
Which is me saying you are my favorite fruit.
Yes, you.

It took me twenty-two years to hear
the heart
doesn’t have to be sweet to be eaten. Tonight
I am grateful that teeth touched me without tearing
or taking the bloom with them. Don’t they know
I’m still arriving? That the days begins and never ends?
That when my brown skin blushes gold, I tell
it to stay? And sometimes it does
but sometimes the blood is too familiar
so I make a bushel out of the burning
and wish it didn’t ring like ritual. Wish it didn’t
ripple so sad ship like.

I listen to a song by Manchester Orchestra
The lead singer, Andy Hull
heaves anchors from honey
and calls it song. Sings
The invention of the ship
is the invention of the shipwreck.

So I am both the ship and the wreck
Should I start over? Okay. I’ll start over.
Hi, my name is Zachary. I am not a ship but
the first of me is the last of something
pretty. 
So I am a shipwreck.

Should I start over?

 

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